


Three Coins in the Fountain

by merihobu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merihobu/pseuds/merihobu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Plumbers’ and Stonemasons’ Guilds are running low on funds, and it is up to their leaders to come up with a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Coins in the Fountain

Ecthelion was staring out of his office window when Penlod walked in.

“Good afternoon, Ecthelion,” he said, dropping a pile of papers onto the desk. “I wanted to see how long it took for you to notice my knocking, but it got boring after about three minutes. So, what troubles you this time?”

Ecthelion turned around, one eyebrow raised. “It took you _minutes_ to tire of knocking? You could teach Glorfindel a thing or two about patience. But I apologise for my inattention.” He made his way towards his desk. “As for what has been troubling me… I suspect it is the same issue that has brought you here today: namely, the uncertain fortunes of our respective guilds in light of Turgon’s latest project.” He cast an ominous look back towards the window, from which a magnificent fountain could be seen sparkling merrily in the distance.

Penlod nodded grimly and gestured towards the papers on the desk. “The latest reports from my accountants are not encouraging. The current funding simply will not suffice, especially now that Turgon wants even _more_ fountains alongside that ridiculous monstrosity we built in front of his palace.  _Seven_  of them in a row! If that isn’t excess, then I don’t know what is. Is he trying to channel the spirit of his late half-uncle with that number?”

Ecthelion pressed his lips together before they could begin twitching. “I never understood multiple fountains in one location myself. In my opinion, they only serve to detract from the majesty of the centrepiece—there is something to be said about keeping things simple.”

Penlod’s gaze fell to the elaborate armour in a corner, lingered over the shield with its myriad crystals, and finally settled on the great spike that protruded from Ecthelion’s diamond-encrusted helm. He decided not to comment.

“And a projection of twenty fathoms!” Ecthelion continued as he began pacing the length of his room, oblivious to Penlod’s silent judgement. “I am loath to criticise our lord, but we could _all_ have benefited from Idril’s advice about moderation. One could keep whales in that centre fountain’s pool.”

“Now you exaggerate.”

“Only just barely. That thing probably contains enough water to extinguish one of Morgoth’s fire-drakes. Besides, I cannot help noticing that Turgon made all these… adjustments to the plans without so much as _mentioning_ an increase in budget. While my plumbers—well, most of them, anyway—enjoy their work, they can hardly be expected to do it for free. I imagine the same goes for your stonemasons. And then there is the question of maintenance—there is absolutely no way our current funds will stretch to cover that.” He glared at the numbers on the sheets. “I see no other solution to this. We must apply for yet another grant.”

Penlod groaned.

“As the main person in charge of this project, I will of course be happy to do it.” Yet the look of grim resignation on Ecthelion’s face spoke otherwise. And as tempting it was to take him up on that offer, Penlod was also not one to shirk his responsibilities, no matter how unpleasant.

“No, you already wrote the last one. I will do it this time. It is only fair.”

For a second, Ecthelion looked almost tempted to concede. Then he shook his head. “No, no—I will have to address the maintenance issue, too, and most of that money will be going to the Plumbers’ Guild. After all, stone details do not require quite as much upkeep as pools and pipes.”

“Nevertheless, I insist. You have enough on your plate as it is. Let me do it this time.”

Ecthelion seemed to hesitate. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally just stared at Penlod, who met his gaze and worked on keeping his expression equally resolute.

The silence stretched on. At last, Ecthelion spoke.

“Perhaps the task of deciding should be delegated to an impartial third party.”

“I agree. Shall we seek out Glorfindel?”

“Glorfindel? One could hardly find a less suitable candidate. I was thinking more of… a non-sentient entity, such as a coin.”

Penlod barely managed to hide his surprise. Was Ecthelion actually suggesting a coin toss? The idea seemed almost too frivolous to come from someone like him—and yet there he stood, with nary a hint of humour on his face. Shrugging, Penlod reached for his coin pouch. “Sun and moon, or scarlet heart?”

“Sun and moon, please.”

With a flourish, Penlod retrieved a coin, balanced it on his forefinger, and flicked it upwards—a little too enthusiastically, it turned out, as the coin ricocheted off the ceiling and landed in Ecthelion’s water jug with a splash.

Penlod looked properly chagrined. “I am so sorry. Let me fetch you a fresh jug—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it.” Ecthelion was staring with an unsettling intensity at the offending coin, which now glimmered, scarlet-heart-side up, at the bottom of the jug. Penlod was just about to voice his concern when Ecthelion swung around to face him.

“I have just had an idea,” Ecthelion said, jabbing a finger towards the jug. “Seeing that coin land in the water brought me back to the whaling expeditions of my youth, where we used to throw all manner of little offerings overboard in hopes of a successful hunt. And now… We need money, do we not? So, lots of coins. Turgon is not the only one who has them. I think…” here, he paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “I think it is time we stop looking to Turgon as our main source of income, and instead turn towards… the rest of the population.”

“What do you mean?”

“Public funding. We should attempt to get public funding. Not by any traditional means, but by _starting_ a new tradition. A tradition of tossing coins into fountains. For good luck, prosperity, whatever it is people want. A wishing fountain. People are superstitious, and they are always hankering after some thing or other. I can imagine them going along with this.”

Penlod’s jaw dropped. Gondolin was flourishing, and many were beginning to accumulate more wealth than they could even conceive of spending. Fountains could be found in every corner of the city. If this idea took off… He fought down his rising excitement, and tried to keep his voice calm. “Yes, I see where you are getting at. It is… it is certainly worth a try.”

Ecthelion snatched up a piece of paper and began scribbling away furiously. “Of course, we need a premise: something universal, something that reaches the largest possible audience. Something like—”

“—like love?”

“Yes! Love—it certainly seems to afflict a significant part of the population at any given time. So many people wish for it, or at least for romance…” Ecthelion banged his fist onto the table, making Penlod jump. “Romance! What if, instead of just love, we have people sacrifice one coin for romance, _two_ for love… and  _three_ for marriage, the ultimate union of body and soul?”

“That is brilliant! Bit complicated to get across, though.”

“Indeed, and there is also the question of how to popularise it…” Suddenly, Ecthelion’s eyes lit up, and the unfortunate table was subjected to yet another thump. “But of course! I could write a song! ‘Three Coins in the Fountain’…” He tapped his pen against his chin. “Yes, that does have a nice ring to it.”

“Perfect. And why stop at love, while we are at it? There are so many things we could branch out to! We have the Valar-themed fountains, for one… People could request all sorts of blessings: a successful hunt from Oromë, a good harvest from Yavanna, victory in battle from Tulkas, even a refreshing breeze from Manwë during those unbearable summer days…”

“Yes, the possibilities are endless, although I am not so certain about my ability to write songs for all of them. Or my desire to do so, for that matter.” 

“Oh, I am sure you will find it in you. In the name of duty, if nothing else. But for now… we could begin by influencing our own people, to set an example of sorts. Indeed, I think we should start with our _selves_ —no, not by publicly wishing for love,” Penlod added hastily, as Ecthelion’s eyes narrowed, “but by scattering some coins in the pool of each fountain. To get the ball rolling, so to speak. People are more likely to get on board an idea if they see evidence of others doing the same. Or at least that is what Egalmoth once told me.”

“Is that not a little… manipulative?”

“Oh, please. Which part of this idea is not manipulative? Or would you rather write that grant?”

Ecthelion made a grimace of distaste at the suggestion, but his troubled look remained. “Still, I believe some measure of transparency is in order—after all, people have a right to know where their money will _really_ be going. I propose we put up a large sign at every fountain stating that proceeds will be channelled towards their upkeep, with anything left over going to charity.”

“A most worthy proposal. And now, I think I will leave you to write your song.”

 

* * *

 

**Bonus drabble ft. Glorfindel and Ecthelion:**

“‘Three Coins in the Fountain?’”

Ecthelion looked up from his music. “Yes. One for romance, two for love, and three for that which many ultimately desire: conjugal felicity. How does it sound?”

“Uncharacteristically romantic of you, for one.”

Ecthelion shrugged. “Anything for the prosperity of the Guild.”

Glorfindel's eyes widened, and for a brief second, a look of disappointment flashed across his face. He quickly masked it by raising an eyebrow.

“I see. And you could not be content with just one coin per person?”

“As long as they keep using small denominations, no. We do have salaries to pay.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- A fountain (sorry) of thanks to tehta for the beta!
> 
> \- The idea behind this story is, of course, gacked from the film “Three Coins in the Fountain”, which I have never actually seen.
> 
> \- The Trevi Fountain supposedly has thousands of euros thrown into it each day, so I guess Penlod and Ecthelion have big bucks coming. Or not, given the lack of tourists flocking to Gondolin.
> 
> \- I keep taking cheap shots at Ecthelion’s bling. Sorry.
> 
> \- Here is a description of (some of) the fountains in Gondolin, from _The Book of Lost Tales II_ :
>
>> Squares there were lit with fountains and the home of birds that sang amid the branches of their aged trees, but of all these the greatest was that place where stood the king's palace, and the tower thereof was the loftiest in the city, and **the fountains that played before the doors shot twenty fathoms and seven in the air and fell in a singing rain of crystal** : therein did the sun glitter splendidly by day, and the moon most magically shimmered by night.
> 
>   
> Fountains, plural! And apparently 27 fathoms = a little over 49 metres, which is pretty impressive. At least to me.
> 
> \- As always, thank you for reading, concrit is always welcome, and please let me know if something in the story seems off.


End file.
